(Sorry if I've missed any. Feel free to link to other stories -- true or invented -- in the comments.)

Then on to the real carnival: the 16th Humanist Symposium!!! This one is full of insights on facing the void and starts with a tale of the life of a classical musician. The next one will be hosted by our good friends at Mind on Fire, so be sure to gather up your best humanist insights within the next few weeks and submit them here!!! :D

Unfortunately, I was still somewhat orthodox during my stay at BYU, so I missed a few opportunities to misbehave...

For what it's worth, however, during spring term 2001 I pinched a few pennies by refusing to rent an apartment for the term, in clear violation of policy. Instead, I camped on the hill between the President's House and the Smith Fieldhouse on the west side of campus, just above the canal that snakes around campus.

It was a fabulous time. In order to reduce my visible footprint, I bought only a sleeping bag, pad and tarp. I slept under the stars on a narrow terrace halfway up the forested hillside. When it rained, I pulled the tarp over my bed; when it was dry, I slept on top. In the morning I'd creep through the bushes until I could be sure campus police wasn't coming by, then I'd jump out onto the sidewalk. (I'm sure I startled a few students, however!) I bathed (occasionally) in the Richards Building gym showers and cooked breakfast on a camp stove in the back of my '86 Suzuki Samurai.